From out each monument, in order plac'd,
An armed ghoft ftarts up; the boy-king last
Rear'd his inglorious head. A peal of groans
Then follow'd, and a lamentable voice
Cry'd, Egypt is no more. My blood ran back,
My fhaking knees against each other knock'd ;
On the cold pavement down I fell intranc'd,
And fo unfinish'd left the horrid scene?

Alex. And dream'd you this? or, did invent the story,

To frighten our Ægyptian boys withal,

[Shewing himself.

And train 'em up betimes in fear of priesthood?

Ser. My lord, I saw you not,

Nor meant my words fhould reach your ears; but what I utter'd was most true.

Alex. A foolish dream,

Bred from the fumes of indigefted feasts,

And holy luxury.

Ser. I know my duty :

This goes no farther.

Alex. 'Tis not fit it should:

Nor would the times now bear it, were it true.
All fouthern from yon hills, the Roman camp
Hangs o'er us black and threat'ning, like a storm
Just breaking on our heads.

Ser. Our faint Egyptians pray for Antony;
But in their fervile hearts they own Octavius.

Myr. Why then does Antony dream out his hours, And tempts not fortune for a noble day,

• Which might redeem what Actium lost ?

• Alex. He thinks 'tis past recovery. Ser. Yet the foe

Seems not to prefs the fiege.

Alex. Oh, there's the wonder.

• Mecenas and Agrippa, who can moft

• With Cæfar, are his foes. His wife Octavia, • Driv'n from his houfe, folicits her revenge;

• And Dolabella, who was once his friend,

Upon fome private grudge, now feeks his ruin;
Yet ftill war seems on either fide to fleep.'

Ser. 'Tis ftrange that Antony, for fome days paft,
Has not beheld the face of Cleopatra,

But

But here, in Ifis' temple lives retir'd,

And makes his heart à prey to black defpair.

Alex. 'Tis true; and we much fear he hopes by abTo cure his mind of love.

Ser. If he be vanquish'd,

'Or make his peace, Egypt is doom'd to be
A Roman province; and our plenteous harvests
'Must then redeem the scarcenefs of their foil.
• While Antony stood firm, our Alexandria
'Rival'd proud Rome, (dominion's other feat ;)
And Fortune ftriding, like a vast Coloffus,
'Could fix an equal foot of empire here.

[fence

• Alex. Had I my wish, thefe tyrants of all nature,
Who lord it o'er mankind, fhould perish, perish,
Each by the other's fword; but, fince our will
"Is lamely follow'd by our pow'r, we must
Depend on one; with him to rise or fall.'
Ser. How ftands the queen affected?
Alex. Oh, the dotes,

She dotes, Serapion, on this vanquifh'd man,
And winds herself about his mighty ruins;
Whom, would fhe yet forfake, yet yield him up,
This hunted prey to his purfuer's hands,
She might preferve us all: but 'tis in vain-
This changes my defigns, this blafts my counfels,
And makes me ufe all means to keep him here,
Whom I could with divided from her arms,
Far as the earth's deep centre. Well, you know
The state of things; no more of your ill omens,
And black prognoftics; labour to confirm
The people's hearts.

Enter Ventidius, talking afide with a gentleman of
Antony's.

Ser. Thefe Romans will o'er-hear us.

But, who's that ftranger? By his warlike port,

His fierce deineanour, and erected look,

He's of no vulgar note.

Alex. Oh, 'tis Ventidius,

Our emperor's great lieutenant in the east,

Who firft fhew'd Rome that Parthia could be conquer❜d.

When Antony return'd from Syria last,

He left this man to guard the Roman frontiers.

B 3

Ser..

Ser. You feem to know him well.

Alex. Too well. I faw him in Cilicia firft,
When Cleopatra there met Antony;
A mortal foe he was to us, and Egypt.
But, let me witness to the worth I hate,
A braver Roman never drew a sword :
Firm to his prince; but, as a friend, not flave.
He ne'er was of his pleasures; but prefides
O'er all his cooler hours, and morning counsels :
In fhort, the plainnefs, fiercenefs, rugged virtue,
Of an old true-ftampt Roman lives in him.
His coming bodes I know not what of ill
To our affairs. Withdraw, to mark him better;
And I'll acquaint you why I fought you here,
And what's our prefent work.

[They withdraw to a corner of the stage: and Ventidius, with the other, comes forward to the front. Vent. Not fee him, fay you?

I fay, I must, and will.

Gent. He has commanded,

On pain of death, none fhould approach his prefence. Vent. I bring him news will raise his drooping spirits, Give him new life.

Gent. He fees not Cleopatra.

Vent. Would he had never seen her.

Gent. He eats not, drinks not, fleeps not, has no use Of any thing, but thought; or, if he talks, 'Tis to himself, and then 'tis perfect raving: Then he defies the world, and bids it pass. Sometimes he gnaws his lip, and curfes loud The boy Octavius; then he draws his mouth. Into a fcornful fmile, and cries, Take all, The world's not worth my care.

Vent. Juft, juft his nature.

Virtue's his path; but fometimes 'tis too narrow
For his vaft foul; and then he ftarts out wide,
And bounds into a vice that bears him far
From his first courfe, and plunges him in ills:
But, when his danger makes him find his fault,
Quick to obferve, and full of fharp remorse,
He cenfures eagerly his own mifdeeds,
Judging himself with malice to himself,

• And

And not forgiving what as man he did, Because his other parts are more than man.' He must not thus be loft.

[Alexas and the priests come forward. Alex. You have your full instructions; now advance; Proclaim your orders loudly.

Ser. Romans, Egyptians, hear the queen's comThus Cleopatra bids: Let labour cease;

To pomp and triumphs give this happy day,

[mand.

That gave the world a lord; 'tis Antony's.

Live, Antony; and Cleopatra live.

Be this the general voice fent up to heav'n,
And ev'ry public place repeat this echo.
Vent. Fine pageantry!

Ser. Set out before your doors

The images of all your fleeping fathers,

[Afide

With laurels crown'd; with laurels wreath your posts,

And strow with flow'rs the pavement; let the priest

Do prefent facrifice, pour out the wine,

And call the gods to join with you in gladness.

Vent. Curfe on the tongue that bids this general joy. Can they be friends of Antony, who revel When Antony's in danger? Hide, for fhame, You Romans, your great grandfires images, For fear their fouls fhould animate their marbles, To blush at their degenerate progeny.

Alex. A love which knows no bounds to Antony,
Would mark the day with honours; when all Heav'n
Labour'd for him, when each propitious star

Stood wakeful in his orb, to watch that hour,
And shed his better influence. Her own birth-day
Our queen neglected, like a vulgar fate,

That pafs'd obfcurely by.

Vent. Would it had flept,

Divided far from his, till fome remote

And future age had call'd it out, to ruin

Some other prince, not him.

Alex. Your emperor,

Tho' grown unkind, would be more gentle, than
T'upbraid my queen, for loving him too well.

Vent. Does the mute facrifice upbraid the priest?
He knows him not his executioner.

• Oh,

Oh, fhe has deck'd his ruin with her love,
• Led him in golden bands to gaudy flaughter,
And made perdition pleafing: fhe has left him
The blank of what he was:'

I tell thee, eunuch, fhe has quite unmann'd him :
Can any Roman fee, and know him now,
Thus alter'd from the lord of half mankind,
Unbent, unfinew'd, made a woman's toy,
Shrunk from the vast extent of all his honours,
And crampt within a corner of the world?
Oh, Antony!

Thou braveft foldier, and thou best of friends!
Bounteous as nature; next to nature's god!

Couldst thou but make new worlds, fo wouldst thou give

As bounty were thy being. Rough in battle,

['em,

As the first Romans, when they went to war;
Yet, after victory, more pitiful,

Than all their praying virgins left at home!

Alex. Would you could add to those more shining vir

His truth to her who loves him..

Vent. Would I could not.

But, wherefore wafte I precious hours with thee?
Thou art her darling mifchief, her chief engine,
Antony's other fate. Go, tell thy queen,
Ventidius is arriv'd, to end her charms.
Let your Ægyptian timbrels play alone;
Nor mix effeminate founds with Roman trumpets.
You dare not fight for Antony; go pray,

And keep your coward's holy-day in temples.

[tues

[Exeunt Alex. Ser. Re-enter the Gentleman of M. Antony.

2 Gent. The emperor approaches, and commands,

On pain of death, that none presume to stay.

1 Gent. I dare not difobey him. [Going out with the other. Vent. Well, I dare.

But I'll obferve him first unseen, and find

Which way

his humour drives: the reft I'll venture.

[Withdraws. Enter Antony, walking with a sturb'd motion before

be speaks.

Ant. They tell me, 'tis my birth-day, and I'll keep it With double pomp of sadness.